Wayward
by carebear88
Summary: After Belle is seriously injured, Rumpelstiltskin accidentally casts a spell that makes her forget everything. When he brings her back to his castle, she must re-learn to love him.
1. Welcome to Beansville

**Summary: After being cast off by Rumpelstiltskin, Belle finds herself in a quirky town, unnable to forget him.**

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Ch. 1

There was a fork in the road. Belle didn't know which way to go. She had been following the trail in Bedlam Woods all afternoon, ever since leaving the dwarf hamlet with just a few coins to her name and the clothes on her back. But now it was getting dark, and even if she wanted to turn back for the village, it would have been another three hours of walking.

Belle took a chance and went left. The trees thinned as she walked on, indicating another town must have been nearby. This was her life now, she supposed—wandering from town to town, living off scraps and the kindness of strangers. She may have been born of nobility, but poverty was an easy talent to pick up. All she needed was a place to stay, a few good meals, and something to do. If only her father could see her now. Belle clutched her cloak thinking about him. She couldn't go home now, not after months of living with . . .

_Rumpelstiltskin._

His name made her heart drop to her knees. He had taken her from her family, her life, had given her a home and compassion she hadn't expected. And love.

Yes, most surprising of all, love.

Belle sat on the side of the road on a fallen tree to catch her breath, not that she was exhausted from walking, but she was tired from thinking about him. Rumpelstiltskin had cast her off with just a wave of his hand, barely a flicker of pain in his eyes that would indicate he loved her. He may have put on a good show, but Belle knew the truth: despite his greed for power, he cared about her.

Belle stood, brushed off her dress, and continued walking. No, she most certainly couldn't go home. She missed her father and her friends, but they would never understand what she went through. Even if they understood her feelings for the man most people considered a monster, they would only mock her, call her a silly girl and arrange another marriage for her to suffer through.

Belle was through with all of that. No one had to know about her time with Rumpelstiltskin, but from now on, she would be free. She would be her own person, go wherever she wanted to go, and try her hardest to forget the only man she ever loved.

This was her life now.

Belle's stomach rumbled and she wondered if she would have to hunt for her food tonight. She didn't mind a nice rabbit stew, but having to kill and clean the poor creature was something she was prepared for. Belle could see small lights flickering through the trees, the flames of a village settling in for the night. She rounded the bend in the trail to a wide prairie with long yellow grass. The town sat before her, snuggled between the hills like so many other picturesque villages she had passed through with cobblestone streets, smoking chimneys, and the faint sound of music coming from the local tavern. Belle made a b-line for wherever there might be food.

By now, it was dusk. The farmers were just getting in from the fields and making the same trail to the tavern as Belle. They watched her curiously as she walked down the lane, eyeing her and whispering to each other in gruff, burly voices. Belle kept her head up and walked on, impervious. It wasn't the first time men leered at her, and it probably wouldn't be the last.

Belle was expected to be thrown out of the tavern as soon as she walked in, but she was surprised to see more than a few women inside, waiting tables and playing cards with the men. A band played in the corner by the massive fireplace. The sounds of a mandolin and drums floated above the loud voices of the townsfolk. Belle sat at an empty table under the staircase, a special place for secret lovers and conjuring magic, she assumed.

A waitress with salt-and-pepper hair and a missing front tooth approached her. "Get ya something, love?"

Belle looked around, wondering if they even served food. She pulled out the last coins from her dress pocket and laid them on the chipped table. "How much for some soup?"

The stout older woman eyed Belle up and down, and her lips turned up in a grin. "Newcomer, eh? Lemme see what I can do for you."

The waitress flounced away to another table and Belle slumped in her seat. She watched the band perform a lively harvest tune and a group teenage boys play chess. At the bar, a gathering of men were having a heated discussion over mugs of beer. Belle leaned in to hear them better.

"They're coming closer," an older man with a white beard said.

"We don't know that for sure," a young man said. He was tall and boyish, with blond hair and a thin frame. He pants hung loose around his waist by a rope. "It's too soon to ask for his help—"

"He could be out only hope," the old man argued.

"The price is too damn high!" the young boy yelled.

The tavern came to a halt. The musicians stopped playing and the teenagers looked up from their game of chess. The young man blushed and looked around the pub. "Sorry," he said.

The chatter rose little by little until it was as noisy as before. The waitress with the missing tooth came by Belle's table and set a plate of heart country food before her—potatoes and carrots, squash soup with blackened chicken and a mug of ale.

Belle stared wide-eyed at the food, and though it literally pained her to say it, she shook her head and said, "I can't afford this."

"You can pay me later, love," the waitress said. "You look like you could use a break."

Belle smiled weakly. "Thank you," she said.

The waitress left with a wave of her fingers and Belle dove into the meal. She threw all propriety out the window and ate greedily, taking huge gulps of grog and licking her fingers when she was done. The inn at the dwarf's hamlet only gave her a bowl of thin broth and a hunk of bread, so she was thankful for such a feast. When Belle's stomach was satisfied, she leaned back in her chair and continued to watch the young man argue with the town elders.

"I don't want to wait until the ogres have burned down our entire village," a man with a cane said.

"They won't," the young man disputed, "not if we fight!"

"_You_? Fight?" The man with the white beard laughed. "You're 150 pounds soaking wet, Jack. A weakling like you won't stand a chance."

The older men laughed and the boy named Jack hung his head. Belle felt sorry for him, being ganged up on by a gaggle of old crones. Even though she didn't know exactly what they were arguing about, her heart went out to him.

Jack said, "It's too risky to ask for Rumpelstiltskin's help. His price could be anything."

Belle felt her breath catch in her throat. Her heart pounded and her mouth dried up. _Rumpelstiltskin_. It seemed these countrymen were as desperate as her father had been at getting rid of the ogres. A flicker of hope ignited within Belle, the thought of seeing him again and wondering if he might have changed his mind, if he might have realized . . .

But no. It was too fantastic a thought even for her. The flame of hope doused itself out and dread took over. She prayed he wouldn't come.

A man bumped into her table as he stumbled across the bar. He was tall and hairy, a beast of a man with a bushy beard and meaty hands. He was also very drunk. "'Scuse me, m'lady," he slurred. He gave Belle a wink. "What's your name, pretty?"

Belle pursed her lips and turned her head away. She didn't need this right now, not when she had Rumpel on her mind—his silly laugh, his gentlemanly bow, the way he light up when she entered the room. He heart ached again.

"Hey!" the large man knocked on the table. "I asked you a question!"

"Leave me alone!" Belle yelled.

"Aw, c'mon." The man reached for Belle's hand, but was stopped when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned, his large frame like a wooden door, and Belle could see thin, frail-looking Jack standing by.

"She said to leave her alone, Brom." Jack's voice was shaky, but clear. His accent was from the eastern lands, where the leprechauns supposedly hid amongst the high cliffs by the sea.

Brom pushed Jack to the floor with one hand. The music stopped and a few patrons gasped. "Stop it!" Belle cried.

"Git outta my pub!" a man from behind the bar yelled. He charged at Brom with a broom and shooed him away. "That's the third time this week, Bromwell!"

Brom waved the old man off and lurched away for more understanding company outside the tavern. Belle went to Jack and knelt by his side to help him up. "Are you all right?" she asked.

Jack touched the back of his head and nodded. "Yeah, fine." He looked at Belle, his eyes glossing over to a dreamy kind of stare, and he smiled. "Thank you."

Belle pulled him to his feet—he really didn't weigh any more than she did—and thanked him for stopping Brom.

"Was nuthin'," Jack said with a blush. He held out his hand. "I'm Jack, by the way."

Belle shook his hand. "I'm—" She stopped. She remembered that she was in a new town with new people. She could be anyone she wanted. "Bo. You can just call me Bo."

"Bo?" Jack smiled. "Pretty name. where ya hail from?"

"Uh . . ." Belle shrugged. "All over, I guess."

"Visiting anyone?"

Belle laughed. "No."

"D'ya need a place to stay?"

Belle gave the man a suspicious look. Wolves came in all kinds of forms—the burly kind like Brom and even the naïve, eager-to-please kind like Jack. He held up his hands, claiming innocence.

"My mum and I have a sheep farm up the road. You could stay in the barn tonight."

"The barn?"

"Mum doesn't like strangers. She was peddled a bum spell by a witch once and never forgave herself."

"I don't want to cause any trouble," Belle said.

"Y'need a place, yeah? How many coins have you got?"

Belle cast her eyes down. "Not many."

"C'mon, it's nice and warm," Jack said. "Do it as a thank you for me."

Belle gauged Jack's face, wondering if there wasn't something else up his sleeve. He seemed harmless enough, hardly big enough to hold down a meal, let alone a defenseless woman. And he _did_ save her from Brom. Belle pursed her lips and nodded.

"Okay," she said.

Jack beamed widely and held out his arm. "Okay! Follow my lead, dearie."

Belle stopped just as she put her arm in Jack's. _Dearie_. It was something Rumpel was famous for saying, sometimes patronizing, sometimes coyly. Though he was sarcastic, Belle had always found it charming, like a game only they knew how to play.

"Are you all right?" Jack asked.

Belle shook the heartbreaking thoughts from her head and smiled weakly. "I'm fine. Let's go."

Jack led her through the town square and up the hill again to a small farm. The horizon was a bluish pink, dampening the fields before them to a dull gray. A light was on in the cottage and Jack had to sneak Belle quietly up to the barn from the back. It was a small stable where the sheep rested after a long day of grazing. There was only five of them in the pen; thin, dirty looking things that gave Belle a bad eye as she walked in.

Jack fetched a blanket from a cupboard on the wall and handed it to Belle. "Will you be all right here?"

Belle looked around again. It was dirty and smelled like hay and manure. Still, compared to a night in the woods where wolves could attack at any minute, it was practically a palace. "It's wonderful," she said. "Thank you."

Jack smiled again. "Pleasure." He stuck his hand out. "Welcome to Beansville, Bo."


	2. Little Bo Peep

Ch. 2

Belle awoke to someone prodding her with a three-pronged weapon. She opened her eyes and gasped, jumping up as a woman with a pitchfork stared menacingly at her.

"Whatch you doin' in my barn, missy?"

Belle blinked hard, coming out of her dreaming state. She forgot where she was for a moment, still reveling in the fantasy of being back at Rumpelstiltskin's castle with her chipped cup and the tender gaze of the man in question.

Sunlight played through the barn doors, illuminating the older woman's red hair into fire. She glared at Belle, her eyes steel gray and her hands rough from years of hard labor.

"I-I'm sorry," Belle said. "I'll go—"

"Mam, don't!" Jack appeared at the barn doors, out of breath. "She's a friend."

"Ain't no friend of mine," the old woman said. "Lookin to steal, missy?"

"No, of course not!"

Jack went to his mother's side and eased the pitchfork out of her hands. "Relax, Mam, she just needed a place to stay for the night." He gave Belle a reassuring nod and set the pitchfork on a barrel of hay.

Jack's mother eyed Belle up and down. She sniffed and crossed her arms over her large chest. "What's your name?"

"Bo."

"Bo?" the old woman cackled. "Stupidest name I ever heard. Got any family?"

"No," Belle lied. She bit her lower lip and prayed the woman wouldn't see through her façade. Though she could be eased by the simple touch of her son's hand, Belle could tell this woman had spent her life hating the world and making others just as miserable.

"Running from trouble?"

Belle shook her head, lying again.

The old woman's eyes flickered away from Belle, an unexpected softness coming over her worn face. "M'husband died last year," she said. "Left us in ruins with just a few beasts to our name."

Belle lowered her eyes. "I'm very sorry."

"We need help around the farm," Jack's mother said. "I can't pay you, but I can give you a place to stay."

Belle smiled slightly. "That would be nice, thank you."

"D'you know anything about sheep?"

The last question made Belle chuckle. "No, but I can learn."

"You can stay in the attic," Jack said, his face stretched in an impossibly large grin. He seemed more excited about the idea than Belle even did.

Jack's mother spit in her hand and held it out to Belle to seal the deal. Belle hesitated. The woman's palm was filthy and her gob of spit was bright green. She gritted her teeth and shook the old maid's hand.

"Call me Mother Hubbard," Jack's mother said.

Again Belle smiled. "It's nice to meet you."

0000000

Herding sheep was a lot more complicated than Belle realized. She always figured the animals knew where to graze and how long to stay on their own, but these ones were as dumb as posts. The old shepherd dog, Opus, did his duty like a general commanding and army. He circled the sheep and barked loudly, letting the beasts know that he meant business and he wasn't about to be disobeyed.

Belle decorated her herding stick with ribbons and flowers. Her favorite part of the day was sitting in the pasture as the animals grazed, the sun warming her face and the sweet smell of earth and pine overtaking her senses. It was a good place to think, to ponder her past mistakes and wonder what she could have done differently.

It was all because of that damn kiss.

Not that Belle regretted it, of course. It was her first and only kiss in her young life, but it was more magical and romantic than she could have ever imagined—not only because it had nearly transformed Rumpelstiltskin back into a man, but because it made her heart dance, her soul want to fly past her lips and become one with Rumpel's.

But then it ended. And so did his transformation.

Belle sighed and stood. She whistled for the dog and he rounded the sheep up again, following Belle back to Mother Hubbard's cottage. In the few days Belle had been living with them, Mother Hubbard had shown every flaw she possessed. She spit and swore, complained often about the "lily-livered" townsfolk, and made fun of the way Belle dressed and talked. And Jack, poor Jack, often took the brunt of the old woman's abuse. He got boxed on the ear if he talked back (which wasn't often), and was chided for not getting enough work in town.

One thing Belle was most sorry for was how little the family had to eat. Every night was the same: a half loaf of bread and porridge. Belle could feel her clothes starting to swim around her hips and breasts, but she didn't complain.

After Belle had gotten the sheep settled into their pens, she walked Opus to the house and gave him a pat on the head.

"Y'back, Bo?" Mother Hubbard called from the window.

"Yes." Belle wiped her hands on her apron and entered the ramshackle cottage. Mother Hubbard was making a stew of chicken bones and bay leaves for dinner. "Smells delicious," Belle said.

Mother Hubbard snorted as she stirred the cauldron above the fireplace. "Your flattery is wasted, duck." She raised her head and looked around the small kitchen. "Where's that lazy son of mine?"

"I haven't seen him," Belle said. She sat at the table. "You shouldn't be so hard on him. He works hard, you know."

"He's got his head in the clouds," Mother Hubbard said. She tapped her stirrer on the side of the cauldron and set it on the table. She glanced at Belle sideways, sneering in her usual way. "Jack's soft on you, y'know. I've never seen him so dopey over a girl."

"Me?" Belle laughed. "He doesn't even know me."

"Doesn't need to." Mother Hubbard sat at the other side of the table with Belle. "You're the prettiest lass in town. I s'pect he'll propose someday."

Belle raised a brow at the old woman and smiled slightly. "Was that a compliment?"

Mother Hubbard snorted again. "Don't let it go to yer head, girlie. Anyway, you seem taken already."

Belle's smile faded. "What do you mean?"

"I ain't a beauty," Mother Hubbard said. "But I knew love once. And I know when someone's pining for another. What's his name?"

Belle looked at her hands as they rested on the table. Her chest tightened and her mouth went dry. Before, it literally hurt to think of Rumpelstiltskin, so much so that she couldn't breathe at just the thought of his name. But now she could picture his face and hear his laugh without breaking down in a mess.

Belle shrugged. "Doesn't matter anymore."

"He hurt you?" Mother Hubbard asked.

Belle nodded slowly.

Mother Hubbard clicked her tongue, looked out the window for a moment, then stood and went about cooking again. "All men are pigs. They're monsters."

"He wasn't a monster," Belle caught herself saying. She looked at the old woman. "He was . . . misunderstood."

"Same tree, dif'rent wood," Mother Hubbard said.

She concentrated on her stew as if it could tell her why men were so bad and why they took advantage of women and why they would gamble away all their money only to die of exposure in the alley of a tavern. Belle thought she saw tears welling in Mother Hubbard's eyes. But it must have been the light.

The door to the cottage burst open and Jack entered, out of breath from running.

"Jack!" His mother yelled. "What the bloody hell—?"

"There's ogres!" Jack said. "In the woods!"

Mother Hubbard abandoned her stew and went to her son. "How d'you know they was ogres?"

"Mikhail saw one while he was hunting. The whole town's talking about it!"

"The whole town's a bunch of gossiping ninnies," Mother Hubbard said. She gave her son a shove on his shoulder. "You should be workin', not lollying about—"

"We gotta fight, Mam! If the ogres get to the village—"

"Enough!" Jack's mother yelled. "Take Lissy and sell her to the butcher."

Lissy was the fattest sheep of the herd, which wasn't saying much, considering most of them were skeleton-thin.

"Mam, don't you understand?" Jack said. "The ogres—"

"I can take Lissy to the butcher," Belle said. The conversation was getting heated and she didn't want a fistfight to break out. Jack and his mother looked at her. "I can get the butcher to give us the money _and_ five percent of the meat."

Mother Hubbard raised a brow at the girl. "How?"

Belle grabbed her cloak from the hook by the door and put it on. She tossed a smile to Jack and his mother. "I'll be back soon."

As she headed out the door, Jack grabbed Belle's arm gently and whispered, "Don't go in the woods."

Belle nodded. Jack seemed genuinely concerned as he looked at her, his green eyes traveling around her face to soak in every inch of her beauty as if he might never see her again. Mother Hubbard was right. Jack was smitten.

Belle went to the barn and tied a rope about Lissy's neck. She led the sheep down the path towards the village. The sky was getting dark with clouds, the low rumble of thunder nearby in the horizon. Belle put her hood up on her cloak and dragged Lissy along. The poor thing was terrified of loud noises and jumped at the slightest provocation. She bleated and kicked her hooves as Belle pulled on the rope.

"Lissy, stop!"

A clap of thunder ripped across the dark sky. Just as it began to pour, Lissy snapped the rope from her neck and ran off towards the woods. "Lissy!" Belled called. But she couldn't even hear her own voice over the loud torrential rain. Bell ran for the goat, ignoring every sensibility in her brain. Jack and his mother's life depended that goat and the meat they could get from it. They couldn't afford to lose another one and, with a harsh winter coming up, they would need the milk.

The rain came in buckets from the now-green sky. Belle entered the woods and saw Lissy's tail bouncing a few yards away in the thicket of trees. The woods creaked and swayed from the rain. Belle was soaked to the bone, even with her cloak, and thought about turning back. She turned her head to see if the prairie was still nearby, but it was slowly shrinking the deeper she got into the woods.

"Lissy!"

Another crack of thunder. Belle held onto a tree as the earth literally shook. Did a lightning bolt hit the ground nearby? No, the storm couldn't have been that powerful. Perhaps a tree had fallen. Perhaps someone was going by in their carriage on the main road. Perhaps—

The ground shook again and again, quick intervals as though a giant were walking towards her. Through the trees, Belle could make out the figure of a very large being. She stood still, pressed against the trunk of a tree, and held her breath. The shaking stopped. Even the rain seemed to lighten.

Before Belle could exhale, a seven-foot tall ogre came bursting from the trees—long, sharp teeth, a bald, oozing head, hands the size of dinner plates—and roared the most ferocious cry Belle had ever heard.

Belle screamed and did the only thing her body would allow. She ran.


	3. Heal

A/N: Sorry again about the wait. This story is starting to be a lot different than I first imagined. Enjoy!

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Ch. 3

As she ran, Belle tried opening her mouth to scream, but nothing came out—nothing but the panting of her breath and a shriek of terror she didn't recognize as her own. The ogre followed her with heavy hurricane legs, roaring and pushing entire trees out of his way. Belle had never seen an ogre in real life, only in the pictures her father's guards drew when the horde of beasts were closing in on their land. But in the flesh, they were far worse than she imagined.

Belle jumped over logs and whipped around trees, zigzagging through the forest to evade the ogre. The stench of rotting meat followed the beast as it neared her. She could feel its hot breath practically on her neck, pulling her in like a vortex to hell. There was a gust of wind on Belle's left and suddenly she was flying through the air, flicked to side like a bug. She screamed and sailed into a tree. A white-hot pain shot through her abdomen, dwarfing the pain in her bones as she impacted the large pine.

Belle fell to the earth, gasping for breath, and clutched her stomach. The ogre ran off in the direction he had been following her. She wasn't an evening snack as she had feared, but simply an obstruction on his path toward more devastation. Belle could feel a warm, sticky liquid oozing from her abdomen. She was afraid to look down at the wound, but raised her fingertips to her face. They were covered in blood.

She must have landed on a branch when she hit the tree. She could feel the wound all the way out her back, just missing her spin but having punctured an organ or two. Fear and panic welled inside Belle. She was alone in the woods, maybe miles from town, and would no doubt bleed to death within the hour. She loud out a cry, but it became more of a whimper.

"Help," Belle whispered. But who could hear her in such an isolated area? "Please help."

Belle was shaking now, trembling with fright. She never thought she would die like this, alone and cold and so far away from home. She laid her head against the wet ground, her tears mixing with the rain. She shouldn't have come after Lissy. She shouldn't have come to Beansville and given a fake name and allowed herself to be taken in by strangers. She shouldn't have left . . .

_Rumpelstiltskin._

Belle squeezed her eyes shut and sobbed. She wanted him more than anything, to be back at his castle and fight for him. She would apologize, let him be whatever he wanted to be—man or monster, she could love both—and they would live happily ever after, this beauty and her beast.

"Please . . ."

Please what? Gods, please spare her? Belle didn't know. She was getting colder and she could feel the blood pooling around her now, the thick sent of iron and silvery wetness in the air. This was how she was going to die. This was what her life had been leading up to.

She just wished it hadn't come so soon.

Belle's eyelids drooped. She felt dizzy, sleepy, the earth spinning beneath her wildly. As she blinked lazily, she could see a light shining through the trees, a speck of illumination coming towards her. Death, perhaps. But she was so tired, so cold . . .

The light grew bigger, and as much as Belle wanted to keep her eyes open to see the angel that had come for her, she slipped into quiet darkness. No one, not even the Dark Lord, himself, could find her there.

0000000

Jack had followed the sound of the ogre's path as soon as he heard the roar from the woods. The whole town had heard it, too, and rushed from their homes in the rain. It wasn't a pack of ogres as they had thought, but rather a lone beast that had probably lost his way. Still, a frightened ogre was far more dangerous.

Jack raced through the woods with a lantern, calling for Bo. His heart raced in his chest, terrified that she was hurt of even killed. He now knew that he loved the dark-haired beauty that had come to their town, more than he would ever love anything else in the world. And he would save her. Yes, he would be a hero and win her heart like so many knights had done before.

When Jack found her, slumped on the ground in a pool of her own blood, he froze in place. She looked dead, her face white and her lips blue, but he could see the rise and fall of her chest and knew she was still clinging to life. Jack scooped her in his arms, nearly falling over as he stood, then ran as fast as he could back into town.

The journey seemed to take forever. With every jolted footstep, Belle let out a cry of pain. Jack would have given his own soul to be able to fly with ease to the town doctor, if only to spare her even a millisecond of pain. When he finally reached town, the rain had stopped and the village had gathered in the square. When they saw Jack approaching with Belle in his arms, they parted and allowed him to pass.

Jack rushed to the doctor. The old man with silver hair instructed Jack to lay Bo on the table. The room was surrounded with vials of medicine, dry herbs hanging from the rafters, and a draft from the doused fireplace. The doctor, named Rathskeller, took linen from a wicker basket and pressed it to Belle's wound. She yelped and jerked her head up. Jack laid his hand on her forehead and easer her back down.

"The wound is deep," Rathskeller said. "How did this happen?"

"I-I don't know," Jack said. His face was flush, his hands red with Belle's blood. "An ogre . . . he must've—"

"Hold this for me." Rathskeller took Jack's hand, pulled him to the other side of the table, and made him press down on the linen over Belle's injury. It was already soaked through with blood. "Press hard. No matter what she does, press hard."

But Belle only whimpered, her body trembling. The doctor poured some wine into a bowl, soaked his hands, and grabbed a vile from the shelf after he dried his hands. He went to the young woman's side and uncorked the vial with his teeth.

"What is that?" Jack asked.

"Move the cloth," Rathskeller instructed.

Jack did, then took Belle's hand. He grimaced as the doctor poured the green liquid into Belle's wound. She didn't cry out in pain, barely even moved as the fluid bubbled and mixed with her blood. Then, it stopped.

Rathskeller shook his head. "It's not working."

Jack looked at him. "What's not working?"

"She'll die."

"What are you talking about?" Jack cried. "You're a doctor, fix her!"

"I can't work miracles!" the doctor argued. "It would take—" He stopped and stared at Jack. The two seemed to share a similar thought.

Jack let go of Belle's hand and ran outside to the courtyard. The town was still gathered, whispering and stretching their necks to get a look inside the doctor's office.

"Rumpelstiltskin!" Jack yelled into the sky. "Rumpelstiltskin, I summon you!"

"Jack, what're you doing?" Mother Hubbard appeared from the crowd and grabbed her son's arm. "It's not worth it! Let her go!"

"Rumpelstiltskin! I want to make a deal with you!"

There was a gust of wind, the smell of dry leaves and mothballs, and Rumpelstiltskin appeared on the fountain, sitting in the lap of the town's founder like a child waiting for a bedtime story.

"There's no need to shout, sonny," he said. "I can hear you just fine."

The crowd of gatherers looked at him in horror. Jack stepped forward, his face defiant. "I need your help."

"Of course you do." Rumpelstiltskin hopped off the statue and approached Jack, that devilish look in his eye, green skin sparkling even in twilight. "But what do I get out of it?"

"You can have anything," Jack said. "Please just save her."

Rumpel smiled. "'Anything' is my favorite kind of deal. Be careful what you ask for, sonny."

"I don't care what it costs!" Jack yelled. His voice was so booming and authoritative; a hush came over the crowd. No one had ever heard him speak like that, especially not to someone as powerful as the Dark Lord.

Rumpel clapped his hands together and giggled. "Done!" He shooed Jack out of the way and entered the doctor's office. Rathskeller hurried out of his own building as if his coattails were on fire.

What Rumpelstiltskin saw lying on the table made him stop. His devious smile vanished. Every bit of human that was still left inside him came rushing to the surface. Suddenly, he didn't care about deals or power or striking fear in the hearts of everyone he met. All he saw was Belle, the woman he loved more than anything, lie dying on a table.

She was alive . . . but for how long? Rumpelstiltskin thought he had lost her once already when the Evil queen said she had jumped to her death from a tower. He should have known Regina was lying. Still, that didn't keep his heart from breaking, or having his dreams plagued with thoughts of her apparent suicide. And worst, still, he always thought he was to blame for Belle's death.

But now she was here, right in front of him. Dying once again.

Jack entered the office. "Can you fix her?"

Rumpel couldn't tear his eyes away from her. She may have only been away for a few months, but he had willed himself to forget every contour of her face, every freckle on her nose, every eyelash on her beautiful blue eyes. He chest rose and fell with small, fading breaths, but the color hadn't drained from her cheeks just yet.

"Get out." Rumpel said to Jack.

"No."

Rumpel turned to the boy. "GET OUT!"

He waved his hand, sending Jack flying out into the street. The door slammed shut on its own. Rumpelstiltskin reached out, slowly making his way to Belle. He touched her arm cautiously, as if she were a dream that could vanish at any moment. The wound in her abdomen was deep and black with blood.

Rumpel leaned in and carefully stroked Belle's hair. He hovered his other hand over her injury. His palm glowed purple; smoke-like magic emanating him and into Belle. As her wound sealed, he kissed her temple and whispered, "You're alive."

Belle's eyes snapped open and she gasped a breath. The gash had completely healed and the blood was gone. The color returned to her face and her eyes brightened. Rumpel smiled, tears welling in his eyes. He finally had her back. He could finally love her the way he hadn't before, tell her that she really did mean more to him that his power. They could finally have their happy ending.

Belle looked at the man before her. Actually, he was more of a monster than a man, with his green skin and strange eyes. She crinkled her eyebrows in confusion and said, "Who are you?"


	4. The Deal

**A/N: Sorry this chapter is so short, but I'm setting the scene for the next one. Thanks for the reviews, keep them coming! :)**

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Chapter 4

Rumpelstiltskin felt as confused as Belle looked.

"Who are you?" Belle asked again.

Was this a trick? Did the magic he used to save her have some kind of consequence? All magic came with a price, sometimes small, sometimes life-altering, but Rumpelstiltskin was always aware of its endgame. It's how he kept his edge. But this was certainly something he had not intended.

Belle sat up on her elbows. Jack burst into the office and frantically went to Belle's side. He took her hand. "Bo, you're alive!"

"What?"

"Her name is Belle," Rumpel said.

Belle jerked her hand away from Jack and scrambled off the table. She pressed herself to a corner of the room, her eyes darting between both men. "Where am I?" she asked. "What's happened?"

"You were injured," Jack said. "You nearly died. I called for Rumpelstiltskin to come—"

"Who?"

"Rumpel—" Jack stopped, looked at the man next to him. He huffed an impatient sigh and motioned to the creature. "Him. He's a wizard."

"Belle, look at me," Rumpel said. He inched closer to her and held a hand up as if he were taming a wild creature. "Do you remember who I am?"

Jack leaped at the Dark Lord and pulled him away from Belle. "Get away from her, you—!"

Rumpelstiltskin whipped around to the young man and held up his hand as though he were going to choke him. Jack levitated in the air, an invisible force squeezing his neck. Belle screamed and ran past them out the door. Rumpelstiltskin let Jack fall to the floor, the poor boy gasping for breath, and followed Belle to the square. She was lost in the crowd somewhere, frightened and confused and all Rumpel needed was a chance to set it right. He didn't have the magic to bring memories back—only true love's kiss could break whatever fog Belle was in. But that would mean losing his power, becoming vulnerable again, and what if the kiss didn't work, anyway—?

"My price is her!" Rumpelstiltskin yelled to the crowd. He felt that same desperation within him as when his son Baelfire was sentenced to fight in the Ogre Wars. If he didn't get Belle out of this town, her memories would have been poisoned against him from these fearful people. Then she would be gone again. Forever.

"You cannot have her!" Jack yelled. He came out from the doctor's, leaning on the door frame as he still regained his breath.

Rumpelstiltskin snapped his eyes to the poor young man. "We made a deal! I saved her life, and now I want what's mine!"

"I'll die first!" Jack yelled.

Rumpel raised his hand again and a swirling ball of purple smoke appeared in his palm. "That can be arranged—"

"Stop! Please, stop!"

Belle appeared from the crowd, and for a split second, hope swelled in Rumpelstiltskin's chest that she might have remembered him. But her blue eyes were still frantic, her face still stuck in that awful, confused look. She looked at Rumpel. His heart ached at her desperation.

"Please," Belle pleaded. "I don't know what's happening . . . just please don't hurt anyone!"

Rumpelstiltskin slowly lowered his hand, snuffing out the magic. He glanced at Jack, then at Belle. "I can help you," he said. "I can get your memories back."

"He's lying!" Jack yelled.

Belle raised a hand to silence him and she stared at Rumpel quizzically. "You know me? You know who I am?"

Rumpelstiltskin nodded. He wished he could have let the truth dancing on his tongue slip out. He wished he could tell her everything they went through in just one breath, but it would have been useless. She had no reason to trust his word yet, no reason to believe he wasn't just spouting lies for his own gain. Rumpel knew he would have to play this at a certain angle.

"I'll make you another deal," he said to Jack. "She'll stay with me for two months. If she hasn't gotten her memories back in that time, you can reclaim her."

Jack sneered at the magician. "It's a trick. You'll just use magic to warp her mind." He went to Belle and took her hand. "You belong here, Bo. This is your home. We're . . ." Jack looked around and lowered his voice. "We're together, you and I."

Rage boiled within Rumpelstiltskin. "He's lying."

Belle furrowed her eyebrows into a v-shape. She didn't recognize this man. She didn't recognize _anything_—her clothes, the town, the seemingly dark wizard standing before her. She felt like she was drowning in darkness, an animal trapped in a cage. If there was a chance this man could bring her memory back, she had to at least try. Then again, who could she really trust?

"I saved your life," Rumpelstiltskin said.

And there it was. His ace in the hole. Belle didn't know much at the moment, but she knew about honor. He could have let her die, but he saved her life, and now all he was asking for was two months of her time. Just two months and she could be normal again.

Belle gave Jack an apologetic look, then nodded to Rumpelstiltskin. "I will go with you."

"No, you can't!" Jack cried.

"He saved me," Belle said to him. "I owe him everything."

"Listen to me." Jack touched Belle's arm and whispered, "He's an evil man. He'll make you his slave and taint your memories. Don't trust him, whatever he says—"

"Belle." Rumpelstiltskin held out his hand for the young girl to take.

She looked at him, then back at Jack. Her heart thudded in her chest, and she was beginning to rethink her agreement. Jack seemed sincere, and it was clear he really cared for her. Still, what choice did she have? "I have to go," she said. A feeling of braveness overcame her and replaced her fear. She slipped away from Jack and went to Rumpelstiltskin.

"I'll come for you!" Jack yelled. "I'll fight for you!"

Belled looked at the magic man. His skin glittered like stars, his face the color of the moon. He was well-dressed and spoke articulately, and though his teeth weren't anything to envy, he was as handsome as a beast could be. He may have had a temper and handled Jack roughly, but he gazed at Belle with such tenderness, she became dizzy.

Belle glanced over her shoulder one last time at Jack. The townspeople had been quiet as ghosts the whole time, watching the scene unfold with terror. Belle looked at Rumpelstiltskin and took his hand. It was warm.

There was a rush of wind, the smell of dead leaves and mothballs, and the pair were caught up in a puff of purple smoke.


	5. A Matter of the Heart

Ch. 5

Belle awoke from a night of dreamless sleep. In that moment before full consciousness, that fuzzy moment between the real and waking world, she wondered if this was what it was to be completely content. She still didn't know who she was or where she slept, so there was nothing to worry her, no family to think about or friends that might miss her. There was just her soft bed, her comfy sheets and down feather pillows. Belle opened her eyes a crack and could see sunlight pouring into the large glass windows of her room.

Slowly, reality settled in.

She barely remembered settling into bed last night, only that she was surprised this Rumpelstiltskin man wasn't going to lock her in his dungeon. He showed her to a stately room in the east with a four-poster bed, cream-color walls, and a balcony overlooking the wooded valley. Belle had stripped to her under dress, leaving her stockings and hair intact, and fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Belle squinted at the sunlight. It was warm on her face, soothing. She wanted to lay in bed all day, bury her head in the pillow and only wake when she had her memories back.

A knock came at the door.

Belle sat upright and bunched the bed sheets around her chest. Rumpelstiltskin slowly entered around the door, a tray of food in his hands. Belle's heart quickened and she swallowed hard. Was he one of _those_beasts? The kind that preyed on the flesh on innocent virgins? She should have never come here; she should have stayed awake and figured out an escape—

"Good morning," the man said.

Belle closed her gaped mouth. "Good morning."

Rumpel cleared his throat uncomfortably, his eyes searching the tray nervously. "I brought breakfast. I hope you don't mind."

Belle shook her head. "No, that's . . ." She raised a brow at the magician. What was his game? Was he trying to lower her defense, butter her up so he could attack when she was weakened?

Rumpelstiltskin set the tray on the vanity. He put his hands together at his front, his eyes never leaving Belle's face. It was as if she were an intricate painting he couldn't stop admiring. "Let's set some ground rule," he said, narrowing his gaze.

Oh-oh. Here it was, the pain and torture Jack had warned Belle about.

"You have free reign of the castle," Rumpel said, "including the gardens."

Belle nodded slowly. She realized her mouth was agape again and clenched her jaw shut.

Rumpel raised a finger and paced. "If you insist on leaving the premises, you will need to be escorted by me. Understood?"

Belle lowered her eyes. "Yes. I understand."

The man must have sensed her hesitation, and offered her a smile. "You're not a prisoner. You can see there are no chains on these doors or windows, but the woods are a dangerous place and you need protection."

"Why?"

The question made Rumpel stop. "Why what?"

"Why are you doing this?" Belle asked. "Why are you . . . letting me wander around your castle and offering me protection?"

Rumpelstiltskin opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. "You should eat. You'll find me in the dining hall when you're done." He went to the door and stopped just shy of exiting. He looked at Belle, that twinkle of mischievousness in his eye. "Fancy a change of clothes?"

Before Belle could even ask what that meant, Rumpel waived his hand and a white dress with red trim appeared on the chaise lounge. Belle's eyes widened and she nearly gasped. She had never seen a dress so beautiful . . . at least not that she could remember.

Rumpelstiltskin giggled, then fled out the door. Belle sat in a stupor, gazing at the dress and the food. She was more confused than ever. She took the tray to bed and smelled the meal cautiously. There were eggs and biscuits, fresh milk and thick slices of ham. A chipped cup held her morning tea. On the corner of the tray, there was a small vase with a single red rose.

This wasn't a meal for a prisoner. This was a meal for a lover.

0000000

After breakfast, Belle wandered around the corridors the castle, admiring the large paintings and marble floors, the crystal chandeliers and heavy velvet drapes. It was cold, though, quiet and empty. Not a servant was in sight. Belle made her way down the grand staircase into the foyer. Directly to the left, the large oak doors to the dining hall were open, revealing an expansive room fit for a king's dinner.

Belle could hear the squeak squeak squeak of a wheel spinning. She entered the room slowly and saw Rumpelstiltskin spinning a spindle wheel by one of the large, floor-to-ceiling windows. The straw he spun instantly turned into strings of gold.

Belle glanced awkwardly around the room and wondered if he was ignoring her. "So?" she asked.

"So what?" Rumpel said from behind his wheel.

Belle sighed, exasperated. "You said you would help me with my memories."

"I am."

"Is there a potion or a spell, or—?"

"There are some things magic cannot heal," Rumpelstiltskin said matter-of-factly. "Yours is a matter of the heart."

"The heart?"

Rumpelstiltskin stopped spinning and peered over the wheel at Belle. "Has anything come back at all?"

Belle frowned at the man. He was talking in circles, evading a truth Belle knew was hidden somewhere deep within him. "You gave me tea for breakfast. The cup was chipped."

Rumpel stood slowly, his eyes wide, gazing at Belle hopefully. "Yes. And . . .?"

Belle hanged her head. "You need to get a new cup."

Rumpelstiltskin frowned. "Yes, I suppose I do." He sat back down, defeated.

Belle moved around the long dining table and stood before the man. She put her hands on her hips to show him she wasn't interested in playing games. "What aren't you telling me?" She demanded. "What do you know about me?"

"Everything," Rumpel muttered.

"What?"

"I don't want to risk frightening you."

"Just tell me something!" Belle yelled. "Anything about my past!" She looked around the room. "Was I . . . was I servant or something? Is that how you know me?"

Rumpelstiltskin sighed. He seemed just as frustrated as she did. "In a way, yes."

"'In a way,'" Belle mocked. "I don't think you can help me at all. I think you're keeping me here for your own selfish gains! Jack was right, you're nothing but a—"

In a swift, fluid motion, Rumpelstiltskin stood, took Belle by the arm and pulled her into a kiss. It was brief, only a second, but it felt like a lifetime for Belle. She was shocked first and foremost, but in the back of her mind, it felt familiar, the way she knew how to breathe and eat when she barely even knew her own name.

Belle ripped herself away from him and slapped him across the face, but in the split-second before the blow, she could already see tears welling in his eyes. He kept his face turned away from her, his green-silver skin dull and cold. Belle braced herself for retaliation, a gust of magic or a crack of his hand to make her wish she had never refused him.

But it didn't come.

Rumpelstiltskin turned and sat back at his wheel. "I apologize," he said.

Belle stared at him, her eyes wide with shock, and ran out of the room.

0000000

Belle stayed in her room the rest of the day. Rumpelstiltskin kept his distance. He listened at the door but could only hear her whimpering from time to time. He wanted to do something to show he was sorry, slip a note under the door or work a little magic to impress her, but he the beauty wanted nothing to do with him. So he sat and spun gold.

He was stupid if he thought the kiss would work. He couldn't break the spell if she didn't love him, and she couldn't love him if she didn't remember him. Rumpelstiltskin knew that, yet he went for it anyway. He ached to feel her again, to have one more moment that made him sure he really did care for her. And he did.

More than he realized.

And now she was mad at him and would probably never try to regain her memories. She would leave in two months in the same fog she arrived in, bound for the arms of that simple boy, Jack, who couldn't give her the love she deserved. Then again, no one could.

Around dinner time, Rumeplstiltskin finally saw Belle peeking around the door of the dining hall. He sprang from his stool, using every muscle in his body not to run to the door like a lovesick puppy. Belle clasped her hands together at her front and kept her head low.

"Hello," she said.

"Hello," Rumpel said back. He kept her eyes for a moment, then took a step forward. "Are you hungry?"

A small smile turned Belle's lips up. "Yes. A little."

Rumpelstiltskin grinned. He went to the table and raised his hand theatrically. "Be my guest." He waved his hand and the table transformed into an elaborate spread fit for royalty—a crimson tablecloth with golden platters that were filled with fruits and vegetables, five different kinds of meat, and bottles of wine and cider. Desserts, from cakes to tarts, were stacked neatly on a silver pyramid holder in the center. Belle raised her eyebrows at the feast.

"Too much?" Rumpel said.

"I, uh—"

"Perhaps I'm compensating a bit . . ."

Belle rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the grin on her face. She sat at the head of the table and carefully set the napkin on her lap. "This doesn't mean I forgive you."

"Of course." Rumpelstiltskin took a gilded bowl and scooped a ladle of stew from a simmering pot. He set it on Belle's plate and sat at the table nearby. He watched the young woman take her spoon and inspect the soup.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Lamb stew. It's your favorite."

Belle raised her eyes to the man sitting by, then took a cautious sip. She hummed in delight. After a few more bites, she wiped her lips with her napkin and looked at Rumpelstiltskin. "Tell me something real. About myself."

Rumpel cocked his head to the side. "You were . . . _are_ . . ." His eyes glazed over as he thought about Belle, who she used to be before she lost her memory. ""You're brave. A kind. And a little feisty."

Belle chuckled. She ate more stew, then her face softened and she asked seriously, "Why did you kiss me?"

Rumpelstiltskin sat back in his chair. He knew she would ask this, but what could he tell her? Even if it was for love, she probably wouldn't understand (he, himself, didn't understand it in the beginning), and who could love someone like him, anyway?

"I am sorry for that," Rumpel said. He took a bowl and scooped his own helping of lamb stew. "But surely you know what a monster I am."

Belle peered at the man. "I don't know _what_ you are. One moment, you're trying to kill Jack, and the next you're giving me breakfast in bed and kissing me—"

"I may be beastly, dearie . . . but the human inside of me can come out sometimes." He looked at Belle, but she only stared blankly. He realized her knowledge of how magic worked may have been forgotten, too. He sighed. "I've been alone for a long time. No magic in the world can cure that."

Belle looked down at her food, then back at Rumpel with that same braveness she had once inhabited not too long ago. "Should I be afraid of you, Rumpelstiltskin?"

The wizard laughed halfheartedly. "You never were before." He looked away from Belle. "Do you forgive me?"

Belle pursed her lips and raised her brow. "Only if you tell me more about myself."

Rumpelstiltskin nodded. "It's a deal."


	6. Soft

A/N: Sorry again for the hiatus. Work and other distractions have gotten in the way. But I already know that there will be a sequel to this story. Maybe even a trilogy. ;) Thanks for sticking it out with me!

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Ch. 6

That night, after dinner, Belle proved to be suspiciously good at Gimlet's Grab, a board game with chess-like pieces. She and Rumpelstiltskin sat on the floor in the study, firelight dancing between them as they played. Belle moved her lupine piece kitty-corner to Rumpel's dragon. He frowned and rubbed his chin. A smile played on Belle's lips.

"Well?" she said.

Rumpelstiltskin waved her off. "I'm thinking."

"I've got you cornered!" she laughed.

"You're misdirecting me."

"And _you're_ stalling."

Rumpel hummed, tapped his chin with his index finger, then moved his dragon three circles to the right. Belle countered his attack and jumped her lupine five circles around him, trapping his piece in a pentagram.

"I win!"

"You're cheating!" Rumpelstiltskin cried.

Belle grinned proudly and held out her hand. "Five coins."

"I only just taught you how to play ten minutes ago and you're robbing me blind!"

Belle laughed. As much as Rumpelstiltskin hated to lose, it was music to his ears. "You spin gold for fun," she said. "You won't miss a few coins."

"It's the principle of the thing," Rumpel said, re-setting the board. "Highway robbery."

Belle tipped her head down and gave him a fake annoyed look. Rumpelstiltskin sighed and and sat back on his haunches. "Fine. Out with it."

"Where was a born?" Belle asked.

"In the north mountains to a Lord named Maurice."

"A Lord?" Belle said. Her eyes wandered to the fireplace, struggling in vain to imagine her privileged life. "That means I'm a-"

"A _Lady_, yes," Rumpelstiltskin said, "though you're not being much of one now."

Belle rolled her eyes. "And my mother?"

Rumpel kept his eyes on the game board. "She died when you were born."

Belle's face dropped as she stared at the man before her. She blinked, trying to conjure some feeling of sadness, but it was hard to mourn someone she never knew. "What about brothers or sisters?"

"Ah ah." He wagged a finger at her. "You owe me another game."

"And _you_ owe me your coins."

"Double or nothing."

They peered at one another, challenging the other with a look. Belle smiled again. Either Rumpelstiltskin was letting her win, or she was a quick study. Whatever the case, she had him in her front pocket.

"Fine," she said. "Double the questions, though, too."

"Deal."

They played another round, and just as Belle predicted, she won easily. Rumpelstiltskin grumbled, but there was a glimmer in his eye, a hint of mischievousness that said he didn't mind so much. But maybe it was just the fire playing tricks on Belle's eyes.

Belle drew her knees up to her chest and asked, "Why did I agree to stay with you?"

"Who's to say you didn't throw yourself at my door, begging me to take you away from your droll life as a pampered princess?"

"Right," Belle laughed, "because all the women of the kingdom are positively fawning over you."

Rumpelstiltskin put his hand to his heart. "Ouch, dearie."

"I'm serious!" she said, scooting closer to him until her back was to the fire. "How do we know each other?"

Rumpel turned his gaze away. Though he knew he had to tell the truth, a part of him wondered if she wouldn't storm out thew way she did when he tried to kiss her. No matter how he reasoned in his head, Rumpelstiltskin didn't come out looking the winner for abducting Belle from her home to be his servant.

"You came to me to save your father," he said, staring at the red and gold duvet next to him. "the ogres were advancing on your land and I . . . well, I made them disappear. For a price, of course."

"Me?"

Finally, Rumpel turned his head to the beauty. He nodded. "Nothing dastardly. I just wanted someone to clean my castle."

"But why _me_?

Why, indeed. Rumpelstiltskin had asked himself that same question when Belle first left him. Why had he chosen her in the first place? Did her beauty make every room she walked in glow? Was her bravery ideal for someone who had to live with a beast? No. It was many things. But mostly—

"I was . . . lonely,he said. "And you weren't afraid of me."

Belle looked into his eyes, into his very soul that was hidden in the depths of his curse. Their faces were close, just inches, and just as Rumpel thought she would kiss him, she reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a handful of coins. Belle leaped to her feet, holding her prize in the air.

"Got them!"

Rumpelstiltskin scrambled to his feet. "What d'you think you're doing, missy?"

"Taking what's mine!" she laughed.

Belle ran from the room and Rumpel pursued her, a grin on his face. He chased her out of the study and into the foyer where the grand staircase met the front doors. Belle giggled as she rounded a large marble pillar. In a puff of purple smoke, Rumpelstiltskin made himself disappear, then reappeared before her just as she began to climb the stairs. Belle shrieked like a child being caught with sweets before dinner.

"You're cheating!" she cried.

Rumpel smiled and wiggled his brows. "I learned from the best.

He held out his hand but Belle descended a step away from him. She tried hard to stop grinning but her lips wouldn't allow it. "Say 'please'."

Rumpelstiltskin gave her a puzzled look, as if Belle had told him to wear a dress and dance like a monkey. "I will _not_."

Belle sighed and shrugged, that hint of a smile still on her playful face. "Then I guess you won't get your coins back . . ." She turned slowly and took another step down the stairs.

Rumpel followed hastily until he was in front of her, their roles reversed. "Perhaps we can make a deal?"

Belle turned her eyes to the ceiling, put a hand to her mouth, and faked a yawn.

Rumpelstiltskin frowned. "Cheeky girl."

Belle giggled and held out the coins. Rumpel took her hand, the coins in his grasp, but didn't let go right away. Instead of jerking back as he expected, Belle's face softened and her grin finally shined through. She blushed and looked away, heart fluttering in her chest like the wings of a butterfly emerging from a chrysalis.

"Thank you," Rumpelstiltskin said.

Belle looked at him and nodded. "You're welcome."

Their hands were forced apart by a sudden knocking at the door. Rumpel whipped his head around towards the door, his heart leaping into his throat. Who could it have been at this hour? Certainly not that stupid Jack boy from Beansville. Perhaps it was Belle's father, finally summoning some kind of army to take her back home. Or worse . . . perhaps it was the Queen.

Another knock, louder this time. Rumpelstiltskin looked at Belle. "Go upstairs," he said. He turned and headed towards the doors.

"But-"

"Go!" Rumpel yelled, spinning around to her. When he saw the fear in her eyes, he lowered his voice and said softly, "Please go. Wait for me to call you."

Belle pursed her lips, then nodded. Rumpelstiltskin waited for her to make it to the top of the stairs, waited a little longer as she made her way down the corridor, then finally opened the door.

A small elderly woman stood before him in a ragged gray cloak. She shivered, exhausted or cold, Rumpel couldn't tell, but she bowed when he appeared before her.

"I need your help, Dark Lord."

The magician sighed, glanced over his shoulder, then ushered the woman inside. "This is not how I do business, dear." He slammed the door shut with a wave of his hand.

The old woman fell to her knees and removed the hood from her cloak. She had deep pock marks on her face and chapped lips, streaks of silver in her dark hair and desperation in her brown eyes.

"Please, sir. My town is dying. There is a plague upon us and . . ." The old woman caught her breath before she could burst out crying and held her hands out in a prayer. "Please help. Please."

"And what would you have me do, dearie?" Rumpel said. "I can't bring back the dead."

"There is a plant growing in our town,the woman said. "Its flowers are spreading the sickness, wrapping around everything like ivy. We can't chop it down, it just grows-"

"Black flowers?" Rumpel asked.

The woman nodded vigorously.

"They're called Witch's Eyes,the Dark Lord said. "Your town's been cursed, dearie."

"Can you help us?" the old maid pleaded.

Rumpelstiltskin grinned slowly and tented his fingers together. "That depends. For a price."

"We have nothing left! Even the livestock are dying-"

Rumpel turned for the door. "Then I guess I can't help you."

"Please!" The woman begged. She threw herself at Rumpelstiltskin's feet. "There are children dying!"

Rumpel looked down at the haggard old woman. He swore, even as the Dark Lord, that he would never let any harm come to children. But all magic came with a price, and this woman had nothing but the clothes on her back. He couldn't even ask for her first born child as collateral. Rumpelstiltskin sighed and rolled his eyes. His gaze was caught on the second-floor balcony, where Belle was hiding behind another large pillar, spying on their conversation. This could be his chance to show her that he wasn't such a monster, that he could be good to other people and want nothing in return.

Rumpelstiltskin nodded to the old woman. "Very well. I'll help your little village."

"What is your price?"

The Dark Lord grimaced and lowered his eyes. He knew he might regret this decision, but it was the right thing to do. "I will bear the price of the magic. You will owe me nothing."

The old woman staggered to her feet and looked at Rumpelstiltskin, confused. "Is this a trick, sir?"

He wished.

Rumpel shook his head. "No trick, dearie. No contract, no debt. I have a potion for your curse."

The old woman smiled, her eyes bulging with tears. She fell at his feet again. "Oh, thank you, sir! Thank you!"

Rumpelstiltskin stepped away as if she were a slug that had crossed his path. "Yes, yes. Just don't spread my good deed around! I don't want others to know I've gone soft."

He led the old woman to his potion chamber and gave her a vile of white liquid. He told her to find the roots of the plant and sprinkle the potion on the vines. Within seconds, he said, the plant will have disappeared and the town will be saved.

The woman thanked Rumpelstiltskin again at least a dozen more times before he showed her the door. When she left, he leaned against the door and looked again towards the staircase. Belle was gone. For the first time since he saw her lying on that table in Beansville, Rumpel was afraid. In his countless years as the Dark Lord, he never used his magic without making a deal. The consequences of said magic were too great to go unchecked, to unstable to be given away freely. And now, he would be the one to pay the price.

Rumpelstiltskin pushed himself away from the door and slowly made his way up the stairs. He passed Belle's room without a pause and ascended more stairs to his chamber in the west tower. It was going to be a long, painful day tomorrow. He would have to prepare himself.

**To be continued**


	7. The Price

Ch. 7

Belle awoke to a silent castle. She didn't catch up with Rumpelstiltskin last night—he already seemed bothered by something and she didn't want to make it worse. But now that it was a new day, Belle worried he was in some kind of trouble. The old woman who had come to the castle last night scared her, not because she was haggard and dirty, but because she relied so heavily on the Dark Lord. To her, he was like a god, the only being in the world who could set things straight. That kind of dependence had made Belle's stomach churn.

Belle got dressed in a yellow and blue gown she found in her wardrobe. She braided her long brown hair down her back and pinched her cheeks to give them a little color. She wouldn't admit to herself that she getting gussied up for Rumpelstiltskin. As she looked at her reflection in the vanity mirror, Belle told herself she was simply trying to play the role she was born into—that of a lady whose father probably owned a lot of land and, therefore, a lot of power.

Still, it didn't hurt that Belle liked the way Rumpel brightened when she entered the room.

Belle exited her room and walked through the corridors of the castle. She checked the dining hall, but it was empty, the spinning wheel silent and gathering dust in the corner. Belle looked out the windows of the east wing at the gardens, but only saw birds and an impressive acre of lush flowers and hedges. She made her way back upstairs, calling out Rumpelstiltskin's name.

Nothing.

She took a left at the third floor and wandered down an unfamiliar wing. It was dark and cold, the shades drawn over the large windows and mirrors broken along the walls. Belle nearly turned back until she saw a door at the end of the hall that was open a crack. She kneaded her hands nervously, then walked towards the door and opened. When she was what was on the other side, Belle gasped and jumped back.

Rumpelstiltskin was lying in his bed, furs and blankets pulled up to his chest with his head propped on a pillow. He had red sores on his green and silver face, some bleeding, others scabbing over. His eyes were red and puffy and his body trembled. Sweat ran down the Dark Lord's face.

"What's happened?" Belle cried. She began to run to him, but Rumpelstiltskin held out a shaking hand.

"Stop," he said hoarsely. "Don't come any closer."

"You're ill!"

"It's the price . . ." Rumpel turned his head and coughed. "The price of the magic."

"Are you contagious?" Belle asked.

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head as much as he could. Belle knelt to his bedside, her scared eyes frantically searching his face. "Will you die?" she asked.

The tiniest of smiles appeared on Rumpel's face. "I'm immortal, dearie. The only thing that can kill me is . . ." He coughed again, louder, enough to rattle his entire body.

"You need help," Belle said. She tucked the blankets closer around him. "I'll bring you some water—"

"Please!" Rumpel took Belle's wrist. His hand was cold and slick with sweat. "Please, I . . . I don't want you to see me like this. It won't last much longer, only until sundown."

"Still, I can't just leave you here," Belle said. She stood and made haste for the door. "I'll be back."

The beauty was gone for only a few minutes, but it could have been a few hours as long as Rumpelstiltskin was concerned. Every muscle in his body ached from the sickness. His skin itched and his eyes burned with every blink. The only thing he didn't feel was the fiery sensation in his throat most normal people felt when they contracted the Witch's Eyes plague. Before they died, many patients claimed they could taste fire.

But, as painful as it felt, Rumpelstiltskin knew he wouldn't die. This was just his penance for using magic unchecked. It told him the old woman's village was free of the curse, and because she had used a shortcut with the potion Rumpel gave her, the hex would finish its course within his body. It was worth everything just to see the genuine concern on Belle's face.

The young woman returned with a basin and a cloth. She sat by his side and ran the wet cloth over his face, washing the dried blood from his skin and careful not to disturb any fresh sores. Her stomach flipped when Rumpel closed his eyes and hummed and she touched him.

"Mm. That's nice," he said.

Belle smiled, dipped the cloth in the washbasin again, and continued dabbing his face. He certainly wasn't any prettier with his sores and matted hair, but Belle could see, underneath his ugliness, the man he may have been at one time. A man with a strong jaw and large, playful eyes. A man with thick brows and a large forehead. A man with a soul and unrelenting loyalty. Suddenly, Belle could see him as the most handsome man in the world.

"You're staring, dearie."

Rumpelstiltskin's voice brought Belle back to reality. She blinked and looked at his eyes. He was grinning.

"I'm sorry, I was just . . . I didn't want to hurt—"

"Do you think me very ugly, Belle?"

Belle pulled the cloth away from his face and lowered her gaze. Her face burned. "I think . . ." She cleared her throat and stood from the bed. "I think I'll make you some soup." Belle set the basin and washcloth on the end table.

"Good," Rumpel said, "because your eggs are rubbish. Always were."

Belle laughed and shook her head. "Stay here. I'll be up in a moment."

"What if I need you?" Rumpelstiltskin asked. Though he may have still been playing, there was a seriousness to his tone, almost desperation.

Belle looked at him. "I'll hear you," she said. She gave him a nod and left the room.

After making herself useful in the kitchen (despite her amnesia, Belle realized her knew her way around the scullery better than her own back hand), Belle carried the soup upstairs on a tray. She took each step carefully, eager to get back to her patient but insistent on not spilling. Just as she reached the grand entrance, a loud pounding came at the door. Belle yelped and spilled the broth on her shoes. She set the tray on the marble floor and grumbled under her breath. She went to the door and opened it slowly, her face half-peeking out into the warm sunny morning.

It was Jack.

"Bo!" he exclaimed.

Belle's face dropped. The boy who claimed to be her lover was standing outside the castle doors, his body ragged and weary from traveling, clothes a mess and hair tousled from nights of sleeping in the forest. Still, he beamed at her.

"You're alive!" Jack cried. He pushed his way into the castle and gathered Belle into his arms.

She stiffened and waited for him to release her. "What are you doing here?" she said.

"I've come to rescue you." Jack looked around the foyer. "Where is he? Where's the beast?"

"You have to leave, Jack!"

Jack withdrew a small jackknife from his belt. "I'm not leaving without slaying the beast." He paced the foyer. "Where are you?" he yelled. "Come out, you coward!"

"Shh! Don't!" Belle pleaded.

"I'm not afraid," Jack said to her. He took her hand. "I'll do whatever it takes to bring you back home."

"But I don't want to leave!" Belle said.

Jack blinked and looked at her as if she had slapped him. "What?"

Belle looked towards the staircase, praying Rumpelstiltskin couldn't hear from his room in the tower. "I can't leave, Jack. Not yet. I still don't remember anything—"

"That's because you're a prisoner!" Jack said. "He wants you here all to himself!"

"No, he's . . ." Belle lowered her voice. "He's not the monster everyone thinks he is. He's kind and gentle and—"

Jack took Belle by the shoulders and stared at her intently. "He has you bewitched, Belle. You don't owe this creature anything."

"I owe him my life," Belle said.

Jack closed his mouth. Anger flashed across his face and he looked as if he might strike her. He was still a boy in so many ways, brave but foolish. "Bo," he said quietly. "I love you. I loved you the minute I saw you. I can't stand the thought of you being here with this . . . this—"

"Belle."

Jack raised a brow. "What?"

"My name is Belle."

Jack frowned. Anger shadowed his face again and he looked like a child who was losing a game to an older brother. "You're my girl, Bo. You belong to me."

Belle jerked herself away from Jack's hands. Now it was her turn to get angry. "I belong to no one." She pointed to the door. "Please leave."

The iciness in her voice melted Jack's face. He looked hurt, tears welling in his eyes, mouth agape in disbelief. He shook his head slightly. "I will find a way, Bo. I'll break this spell you're under and come for you."

"Please go," Belle implored.

Jack brushed past her coldly, but just before he opened the door, her took her hand and kissed it. "I will come for you," he said again. He left quietly.

Belle closed the door of the castle and huffed a breath. She looked at her hands and they were shaking. She didn't know what Rumpelstiltskin could have done if he had seen Jack here. The Dark Lord may have been too weak to fight Jack off as before, and he was especially too weak to defend himself. The thought of Rumpel getting hurt worried her more than Jack's well-being. Belle didn't know how to feel about that.

The young girl composed herself and continued carrying the tray of soup upstairs. When she reached Rumpelstiltskin's quarters, he was sleeping. She set the tray on the end table and Rumpel's eyes fluttered open.

"I'm sorry," Belle said. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Rumpelstiltskin looked at her with dreamy, wandering eyes. "You came back," he said. He smiled. "You must have heard me calling you in my sleep."

Belle sat on the edge of the bed and laughed, shaking her head. She wondered if he was delirious from his nap or hallucinating from the sickness. She took a spoonful of brother and fed it to her patient. He clucked his tongue and grimaced.

"It's cold."

Belle looked at the bowl of soup, then at him again. She shrugged. "I guess I'm rubbish at making soup, too." She ladled another spoonful but just as she held it before his lips, Rumpel placed his hand over hers.

"Something's wrong," he said. He narrowed his gaze. "What happened?"

Belle avoided his stare. "Nothing happened."

"You're lying. Why do you look so shaken?"

"I'm . . ." Belle sighed, exasperated. The last thing she needed was an inquisition. "I burned myself in the kitchen, okay? That's all. Now open up." The spoon finally went into Rumpelstiltskin's mouth, but he still eyed her curiously.

As she reached for another portion from the bowl, Rumpel said, "When I'm recovered, I'll heal you."

"That's not necessary."

"Neither is this," Rumpel said, tossing his gaze to the bowl of broth. "Yet here you are."

"Yes, but remember the last time you healed me?" Belle said. She gave him a know-it-all look and Rumpel rolled his eyes. "That's what I thought."

Rumpelstiltskin ate the rest of his meal without complaint. He liked having Belle sit so close to him, her hands near his face, her beautiful blue eyes surveying the sores on his face. If he weren't so incapacitated (and, if it weren't for what happened last time) Rumple would have chanced another kiss—softer this time, slowly, as gently as she had first kissed him all those weeks ago.

But he didn't. And he hated it.

When he was done eating, Belle put the spoon in the empty bowl and gathered it in her arms. "I'll let you rest."

"Wait."

Belle stopped and looked down at him on the bed.

"Will you do something for me?"

Belle smiled and nodded. He seemed so sheepish, so adorably awkward. It was entirely unlike the monster Jack made him seem.

"Will you please stay with me until I fall asleep?"

The butterfly in Belle's stomach beat its wings again and she could feel the blood rush to her cheeks. He was vulnerable and yet still so timid. It was clear to anyone that he enjoyed her company. Belle was pleasantly surprised to learn that she liked his as well. She walked around the bed and sat on the empty side sunlight poured through the window, warm enough where she didn't need the blankets Rumpelstiltskin was hogging. She nestled down into the pillow, far enough to keep their shoulder from touching.

"Thank you," Rumpel said, closing his eyes. "I'll call if I need you."

Belle leaned her head against the headboard and whispered, "I'll hear you."

**To be continued**


	8. Desperate Soul

Ch. 8

Belle was falling. There was no ground or sky, no end or beginning, just darkness and that awful heart-dropping feeling as though she would never stop falling. A pair of arms outstretched and caught her as though she were nothing more than a feather in the wind. Strong arms. Protective arms. Arms that were warm and inviting and—

Her leg jerked and Belle's eyes snapped open. Her heart was racing, that dizzy feeling still reeling in her head. She saw the canopy of the four-poster bed, the cracked ceiling, and suddenly remembered that she was in Rumpelstiltskin's bed. In. His. _Bed_.

She looked immediately to her left, but the other side of the bed was empty. Belle groped at her garments, but everything was in place, intact, and there was no sign of foul play while she was sleeping. Belle stood up groggily and looked out the window. It was evening, the sun just beginning to set in the horizon over the mountains. She rushed downstairs and immediately found Rumpelstiltskin at his usual seat in front of the spindle. His face, though still cursed, was clear of sores and blood. His eyes were their normal dark color and his gray-green skin sparkled in the candle light. Belle touched her stomach and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Ah," her captor said, keeping his eyes on his work, "you're finally awake."

Belle stepped further into the large dining hall. "I thought . . . I thought maybe—"

Rumpel looked up from his spinning with a sly grin. "Don't tell me you were worried about me, dearie. Horrible, awful me."

But she was. Belle was surprised by how much she cared. The thought of him hurt or dead made her stomach turn sour. She looked at him worriedly, enough that the Dark lord stood from his stool. "You're all right, then?" Belle asked.

Rumpel gave a nod, his smile faltering. "Quite. I told you, it would only last until sundown." He circled around the wheel and approached Belle. "Had a bit of a fright, did we?"

"Please don't jest," Belle whispered. She blinked hard to stop the tears from coming. If he were to die, she would have been all alone in this castle with no memory of who she was or even how to leave. She would have been truly trapped, isolated with just her blank thoughts like a mad person who couldn't wake from a nightmare. Worse, still, she would have lost the one person whose company she enjoyed more than anyone's.

Rumpelstiltskin saw the pain in her face, could see her thoughts without even asking. His heart tore in half and he would have done anything in the world, cost be damned, just to make her smile. There was something else under her expression, too, a secret she was keeping behind her troubled eyes.

"Something's the matter. Tell me."

Belle looked away. She couldn't tell him about Jack, about his promise to "kill the monster" and win her hand. It was bad enough Rumpel appeared to be dying from that sickness, but if Jack were to find his way back into the castle, she didn't want to think of the mayhem that might ensue. And his perseverance, his suffocating love scared Belle worse than anything else. It was a dangerous kind of love. The kind that got people hurt.

Belle forced a grin to show that all was well. She cleared her throat and turned for the dining table. "I had a dream just now . . . I was on some kind of ladder and I was falling."

Rumpel's face brightened. "Yes?"

"Someone caught me," Belle continued. She sat at the table and folded her hands. "Was I remembering something?"

Rumpelstiltskin grinned slowly and strolled to the table He sat down at a chair opposite of Belle and said, "Yes. You fell off that ladder, there." He pointed to the ladder by the window. "You were trying to get the drapes down."

Belle scrunched her face and looked at the ladder. She rattled her brain, trying to remember the rest of the dream. It was all vague now, as far away as her old memories that were hidden in the back of her mind. She looked at her hands and shook her head.

"Give it time," Rumpelstiltskin said. "You've only been here a few days."

"I'm tired of not remembering who I am." Belle looked at her captor. "I'm tired of being in the dark."

"Then I shall make some light for you." Rumpelstiltskin waved his hand, flicked his wrist, and a flame appeared in his hand, hovering just above his palm. It flickered into tree-shape, then a heart, until finally evaporating into quick, bright sparks.

Belle laughed at the trick. She smiled at him. "Are you trying to make me feel better?"

"Yes. Is it working?"

"I'd feel even better if I had some dinner."

Rumpel cocked a brow at the young girl. He grinned cheekily. "Greedy child." He waved his hand across the table and a full spread of food appeared, just as lavish and mouth-watering as Belle's second night in the castle.

They chatted as they ate, joking and teasing with each other. Belle's uneasiness melted away as she sipped cider and watched Rumpelstiltskin's many facial expressions. He was boisterous and witty, waving his hands about like a conductor every time he spoke. At one point, Belle was laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes, a drop of which fell right into her dessert custard. Rumpel only smile, delighted he could make her so happy. He hoped, within time, she would understand why.

It had been three days since Jack had left that monster's castle, three days of trekking through the woods and stopping only to sleep. He passed through Beansville on his journey, telling mother his plan to get Bo back and bring her home.

"This ain't her home, Jack," Mother Hubbard had said. She was sitting by the fire with his son as he ate his stew quickly. She expected him to come home in a coffin with his head twisted around, not hungry for revenge and irrational about how heroic he thought he was being. She expected the Dark Lord would have killed her son the second he stepped foot onto the castle premises. And still, he was alive.

"She's bewitched, mother," Jack said, the brow stew dribbling on his chin.

Mother Hubbard looked at her son with pity. He was still such a boy in so many ways and she blamed herself for not having a man around the house to toughen him up. For God's sake, he still needed a napkin tucked in his shirt to eat.

"Why can't you honor Rumpelstiltskin's agreement?" the old woman said. "It's only two months."

"In two months, he'll have her brainwashed." Jack pointed his soup spoon at his mother. "I can't have her being turned against me."

"You're a fool, Jack."

But, of course, he didn't listen. The rest of the village gave him the same warning, to stay away from Rumpelstiltskin and forget about this girl. To do anything else would have been suicide.

But, Jack wondered, didn't they know how foolish _they_ sounded? As he hiked through the forest late at night, he couldn't understand why the townspeople didn't cheer him on. He was going to be a savior. He was going to rescue that beautiful girl and slay the monster and have her hand in marriage. He was going to end the suffering of so many people who owed Rumpelstiltskin a favor for his services. He would be a hero for centuries to come and his descendants would re-tell the tale of how their great-grandfather killed the most powerful evil their world had ever known. The people of Beansville should have carried him on their shoulders on his way out of town.

On his fourth night of walking, Jack stumbled upon a small town near a river's edge. Weary, he went to the local tavern for food and asked the barmaid how far it was to the evil Queen's realm.

"Why the blazes would you want to go there?" the plump old woman asked.

"I need magic. Someone I love is in danger."

"He needs magic, eh?" an old man called near the fireplace he wore a gray cloak and smoked a long pipe. "Look no further, boy. There's a wizard who lives in this town."

Jack stood from the table. "Where can I find him?"

The old man motioned towards the door. "He lives up the hill in a cottage. I can take you there, if you like."

Jack agreed ardently. He followed the decrepit old man through the hamlet to a stone wall by the river. Moonlight graced the water like silver and a cool wind ruffled their hair. Jack looked around, confused. "I don't understand," he said. "You said the wizard lives on a hill."

The old man knocked three times on a red stone on the wall. The stone jutted out and the hooded man turned it. A rectangle section of the wall opened like a door, the edges rimmed in gold light. Through the door, a cottage on a hill sat towards the edge of the woods. Jack smiled, realizing the wizard's home was hidden by magic. He thanked the hooded man and entered the wall unaccompanied.

Jack pressed his ear to the front door of the cottage. It was a small, crumbling shack with a thatched roof and ivy growing along the windowsills. He listened for any trace of the wizard, a cough or a snore to indicate this wasn't all some elaborate trap.

"Come in, if you're going to," a voice said from inside.

Jack leapt back from the door, startled. He swallowed hard and took his jackknife from his pouch. He opened the creaking door slowly and peered in. A fire was lit in the hearth, a cauldron bubbling on the flames. Dried herbs and flowers hung from their ceiling and the dusty tables were covered with empty vials. A man cast in shadows sat in a rocking chair by the fire, drumming his long, bony fingers along the curved arm. Jack squinted but couldn't see his face.

"Enter, boy."

Jack obeyed and closed the door. The cottage smelled of seaweed and damp wool. "I need your help," he said to wizard.

"I know." The wizard's voice was deep and powerful. It made Jack's knees rattle.

"I need to know how to kill Rumpelstiltskin."

The wizard stood from his chair, his black robes billowing around him. He turned to the fire and stirred whatever was in his cauldron. "Rumpelstiltski n is a powerful man."

"He's no man."

"He was. Once." The wizard sat back down. His face was still hidden no matter how hard Jack looked. "But there is a way to kill him."

"Tell me."

The wizard sighed, his breath thin and airy. "You're no match, boy. This is not the destiny you were meant for."

"Yes it is!" Jack yelled. "She came to me for a reason! It was fate—"

"She?" the wizard asked.

Jack lowered his voice. "The Dark Lord has her captive. He thinks he can bring her memory back, but he won't, he's just—"

"Ah, yes." The wizard rocked in his chair, slow and knowingly. "The beauty. I've been told about her."

Jack stared at the wizard, bewildered. "By whom? Are you working with Rumpelstiltskin?"

The wizard shook his head, as much as Jack could see, anyway. "No. The fairies have spoken to me. She has an important destiny."

"Yes, with me!" Jack cried. "_She_ is my destiny!"

The cauldron smoked and bubbled. The wizard rose once again and bent over the cauldron. He mumbled something, whispering into the pot as if someone were speaking to him. Jack craned his neck to see, but didn't dare come any closer.

"What are you doing? Who are you speaking to?"

The wizard straightened and his back heaved with another airy sigh. He turned to Jack. "I will help you."

Jack smiled widely. "You will?"

The wizard slowly sauntered to a table by the window at the far end of the cottage. "Contrary to my judgment, it seems this _is_ your destiny." He turned and faced Jack. "But there is a price."

"I don't care. I'm—"

"A desperate soul," the wizard said. "Yes." He turned back to the table, glass vials and wooden bowls clanking about. "You must trust me completely, young man."

"I do."

The wizard pulled a wooden chest from under the table and opened it. He pulled out a long silver cloak, the color of the moonlight shining through the windows, and poured a clear liquid on it from one of the vials. He held the cloak up.

"This is an enchanted cloak. It will make you invisible to the naked eye, but only on the night of a full moon."

Jack nodded. "I understand."

The wizard threw the cloak at the boy's feet. Jack picked it up and studied it in his hands. It shined like diamonds but was as lights as air.

"To gain control of the Dark Lord, you must first obtain his dagger. The dagger bears the name of whoever is the keeper of the magic. Find it, and you can control him."

"And I can destroy him with it?" Jack said eagerly.

The wizard tipped his head down. Though Jack could not see the man, he could feel the magician's eyes penetrating him. "Find the dagger. But beware of its power."

Jack nodded again. He looked at the cloak, then at the wizard. "A full moon, you said?" He went to the window and looked at the black sky. "That's weeks away!" he cried.

"Beware of the dagger's power," the wizard repeated. "Once obtained, it cannot be destroyed."

Jack looked at the old wizard. "Thank you," he said. "I'll do as you say." He put the cloak on and turned for the door. Just as Jack was about to open the door, the wizard called out to him.

"All magic comes with a price. It is only borrowed."

Jack stared the man. "What's your name, wizard?"

The old magician chuckled musically. "It doesn't matter. I'll be gone from this realm soon."

"Please tell me."

The wizard took a step forward, revealing his face. It was old and haggard, wrinkles in every crevasse with tiny blue eyes and brown teeth. He had a long white beard and a blue hat under his black cloak.

"Merlin," he said. "I am called Merlin."

**To be continued**


	9. A Dance With Three

**A/N: Sorry this one's a little short, I had to split the chapters up. Thanks for the reviews, I really appreciate it! :)**

* * *

Ch. 9

Weeks passed.

Belle was no longer haunted by Jack's promise of revenge. She didn't stay up at night thinking that he might burst into the castle at any moment and get himself killed. She didn't stare out the window, wondering if she would see him charging on horseback like a little boy playing knight-in-shining-armor. She didn't need to think about these things, not with Rumpelstiltskin as company.

They spent their evenings playing Gimlet's Grab and drinking wine. In the mornings, after breakfast, Rumpel would take her through the gardens and help her pick flowers to place throughout the castle. When he had to go away for business (that's what he called it耀windling magic was too harsh, he thought), Belle stayed in the expansive library and read the leather-bound books. She didn't mind that Rumpelstiltskin locked the castle doors when he left. To her, it wasn't so much that he was locking her in, but keeping someone else out. Someone dangerous.

Rumpelstiltskin showed her a map of the kingdoms and the best trails to follow. Belle studied them voraciously, wanting to know more about these lands of mermaids and goblins and princesses. They sat by the fire together and he told her of all the places he had seen and the people he met. He left out the lives he had taken and the twisted deeds he had done since his time at the Dark One, but Belle didn't seem interested in all of that. She was happy imagining boats along the ocean, waterfalls spraying the tips of pine trees in the forests, and dark caves with hidden, beautiful secrets.

It all sounded so adventurous.

"I'm going to be an explorer," Belle said one night.

She stood before the mirror in Rumpelstiltskin's room, trying on a hunting hat. Why he such a hideous thing in his wardrobe, she didn't know.

Rumpel looked up from his book and raised a brow. "You'll do what, now?"

Belle smiled at him in the floor-length mirror. She outgrew her shyness since coming to castle and was pleased to come and go from the man's room as she liked, barring he wasn't sleeping or the door was closed. He seemed to have no secrets when doors were unlocked, so Belle took it as an opportunity to have some fun.

"When I get my memory back," Belle said, "I'm going to explore the world."

Rumpelstiltskin turned the page he was pretending to read and hummed in agreement. It was hard to concentrate on the words on the page when his love was being so charming. Belle took the hunting hat off and pulled out a green and blue scarf from the drawer in the closet.

"Be careful now, that's silk!" Rumpel said.

"First I'll get a boat," Belle said, ignoring him. She tied the scarf around her neck and studied her reflection. "Then I'll sail the five seas. I'll fish and lay around in the sun and collect gemstones."

"Uh-huh." Rumpel snapped his book shut. "And you'll be doing this all by yourself?"

Belle turned her head to him. "You may join me, only if you promise not to get sea sick."

"'Sea sick'," he mocked. "Dearie, I've sailed more waters than you can imagine. And I'll tell you what-" he pointed to her "-there are whales in the ocean. Big ones that swallow you whole!"

"Don't try to scare me," Belle said, untying the scarf. She placed it neatly back in the drawer and plucked a fancy white-and-gold jacket from a hook. "And then, once I've sailed the seas, I'll go to every party in the put the jacket on straightened primly. "I'll drink wine and dance until my feet fall off!"

"I've been to those parties, dearie. They're a bore."

Belle turned to him once more. "You have?"

Rumpelstiltskin stood from his desk and set his book down. "A bunch of pampered poodles dancing around like waved his hand sarcastically. 典he girls with their hair as high as towers and the men making gooey eyes at them . . . I've had more fun fighting ogres."

Belle smiled. "You liked it, didn't you?" she teased. "Who doesn't like dancing?"

"Me."

"Well, maybe you just haven't found the right partner."

Rumpel tilted his head down and grinned slyly at her. It was a smile that was scary and exciting all at once, and Belle liked to push his buttons just to see it. He walked slowly towards her and pulled her close, taking the jack off her back. Belle held her breath, her heart thudding in her chest. They were so close, almost in a hug, and she wondered if she should tell him to stop for propriety's sake.

Rumpelstiltskin stepped away with the jacket, that devilish curl on his lips. He put the garment on and, despite his otherworldly features, was quite dashing. He raised his hand, snapped his fingers, and Belle instantly felt herself becoming enveloped in a cloud of purple smoke. She looked down and, when the smoke had cleared, saw that Rumpel had transformed her average blue dress into a stunning gold ballroom gown.

She gasped and looked at him. He extended his hand.

"May I have this dance?" Rumpelstiltskin said.

Belle's face burned and she knew she was blushing. She couldn't help the rush of giddiness flowing from her toes to the ends of her hair. It was like lightning. She smiled and took his hand.

Rumpel led her downstairs to the library. The full moon shone in the large windows, illuminating the open space like faerie's wings. They had only the stars and the silver orb in the sky as their light, and Belle wouldn't have had it any other way. Her breath caught in her throat when she realized—

"I can't dance."

Rumpelstiltskin held out his hands. "I can teach you."

Belle took his hand. She didn't realize she was shaking until he put his other hand on the small of her back. She raised her hooded gaze to him, and there was such tenderness in his otherwise dark eyes, she nearly sighed.

"Don't be afraid," he said. "Follow my lead."

He stepped forward with his left foot and Belle awkwardly took a step back. After a few stumbles and stubbed toes, Belle finally got some of the rhythm down. When she stepped the wrong way, she laughed and tried to bow out, but Rumpelstiltskin held her firmly. He wasn't about to let her go.

"We don't have any music," Belle said.

Rumpelstiltskin looked towards the ceiling, and suddenly a stringed quartet played softly, almost far away like they were in a different part of the building. Was Belle hearing it in her head? She didn't care. She laughed and they danced on.

"You're not _terrible_," Rumpel said playfully. He twirled her around and pulled her against his chest. "Not great, though."

"You're too kind," Belle said with a laugh.

Silence settled between them, save for the far-off violins and cellos. "Do you remember any more?" Rumpelstiltskin asked finally.

Belle lowered her eyes. "Some blurry things when I dream. Nothing that makes sense."

"You're time is nearly half over."

Belle nodded slowly.

Rumpelstiltskin ducked his head to catch her gaze. "What will you do next month if you don't remember?"

"I . . . I don't know."

Silence again. Sadness pricked Rumpelstiltskin's heart, wondering if she would go back to that boy in Beansville. He slowed their dancing down until they were swaying. "Will you . . . leave?" His voice cracked, but he didn't care. It was ultimately her choice.

Belle surprised him by resting her cheek against his shoulder. Rumpelstiltskin closed his eyes, warmth flooding the ice in his veins. He didn't think it was possible, but with that one, simple gesture, he had fallen in love with her all over again.

"Could I stay with you?" Belle whispered. "Just for a little longer?"

Rumpel leaned his head on her's. "Stay forever, dearie."

Belle slowly raised her head from his shoulder and looked into his eyes. They had stopped dancing now, the music still playing softly, fading away as their lips got closer, closer, closer still . . .

Rumpelstiltskin stopped. He jerked his head away and looked towards the doors of the library. Something was wrong.

"What is it?" Belle asked.

He released himself from their embrace and slowly stepped towards the door. The room was cold. The music had stopped and was replaced by a faint buzzing, like a mosquito that wouldn't quit. He recognized this feeling whenever Regina was near-strange magic was in the air.

"Do you feel that?" he asked, more to himself.

"Is something wrong?" Belle said. "I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"Shh!" Rumpelstiltskin held up a hand to silence her.

It was closer now, that cold feeling. The buzzing was getting louder, too. He knew this kind of magic as neither good nor bad, but it was certainly an unfamiliar feeling. It was like being burned when you were expecting to freeze.

A voice . . .

"_I'm here . . ."_

"Do you hear that?" Rumpelstiltskin asked.

"Hear what?"

"_I'm . . . here . . ."_

"Someone's in this room."

Belle looked around worriedly. Rumpel wasn't making sense. She could hear anything or see anything but the moonlight and the empty library.

"_Rumpelstiltskin. I summon thee!"_

"No!" Before Rumpelstiltskin could work his magic to escape, he felt himself freeze in place, his bones and muscles locking in place.

Belle cried out as a figure appeared before him like a ghost. It was Jack. He held a jagged dagger in his hand, a silver cloak in the other. He threw the garment on the floor and pointed the dagger at the Dark One.

"You will obey me," Jack said.

**To be continued**


	10. Broken

Ch. 10

A smile twitched on Jack's face. He couldn't believe the power he was holding in his hands; it was like the sun on his fingertips. He could feel the magic of the dagger piercing Rumpelstiltskin, holding him in place like an invisible wire. It was intoxicating. It was . . . seductive.

"Jack, stop!" Belle cried.

"I command you," Jack said to the beast, "stay where you are."

"Belle, leave," Rumpelstiltskin said. He could still move his mouth and his eyes, but his body was locked in place. "Get out of here."

Belle ran to Jack and pulled on his arm. "Please, stop!"

He batted her away and kept his stance on Rumpel. "This is my fight, Belle!"

"You don't know what you're doing, boy," Rumpelstiltskin said. "That magic you wield is the darkest in the world. You can't handle it—"

"I command you to give up this girl!" Jack yelled.

"She's under no spell," Rumpel said calmly. "You're living in a dream world."

"She's mine! She's mine, and I'm taking her ba—!" Before Jack could finish, he was struck over the head with a large book. Belle was behind him with a heavy leather-bound map of the world. Jack fell to the floor, the dagger shooting out of his hand and skidding across the marble floor.

"Belle, get the dagger!" Rumpelstiltskin said.

Belle made a dash for the weapon, but Jack leapt up behind her and pulled her down. He managed to grab the dagger before her and, when she tried to wrestle it from his hands, Jack took her by the hair and thrashed her head on the hard floor.

"Leave her alone!" Rumpelstiltskin cried.

Jack scrambled to his feet as Belle lay motionless on the floor. She felt blood on her forehead but couldn't move, could barely even tell where she was when the room was spinning and black dots popped before her eyes and—

"_My price is her . . ."_

_A dungeon. A rose. A tumble from a ladder into the arms of a beast._

"_You're happy I'm back."_

"_I'm not unhappy." _

_A spinning wheel. A single kiss. That brief, magical moment when Rumpelstiltskin was a man and she was a woman and they loved each other—_

"_Go."_

Belle blinked and the world came back into focus. The whole world.

"I remember," she whispered. She sat up, reeling from the rush of memories that had come flooding back. "I remember!"

Jack held the dagger tightly, the black magic consuming his soul. He would make amends to Belle later—yes, that probably _was_ her real name, anyway—but right now he had a mission. The monster was right in front of him, powerless, completely at Jack's mercy.

"Jack, stop!" Belle cried.

The dagger went into Rumpelstiltskin's back. Then out slowly. Blood dripped onto the floor.

"_No_!"

A white-hot flash of pain shot through Rumpel's back. As he fell to his knees, it was replaced by a different kind of pain, as though his bones were being ripped out from under his skin. He knew the curse was leaving his body—he could already feel the darkness in his soul dissipating.

"No, no!" Belle rushed to his side as he fell on his stomach, then rolled over onto his back. She cradled his head in her arms, tears streaming down her face. "Please, please—"

Rumpelstiltskin reached his now-human hand up and touched Belle's cheek. "Belle . . ." Through his pain, he smiled shakily. He was just as beautiful as a man as he was when he was a monster.

"I remember," Belle whispered. "You can't die! I remember everything!"

"The curse . . . it's broken." Rumpel coughed and a few drops of blood escaped his lips. A black pool of blood stretched around him from his back. He stroked the cut on Belle's forehead from when Jack pushed her down, then touched her hair. "At least we got to dance."

"No! You won't die!" Belle cried. She was sobbing, tears flowing from her eyes like rivers.

"I'm so sorry I turned you away." Rumpelstiltskin's voice was barely a whisper, fading like the light from his eyes. "I'm so sorry."

"Please, please, don't—"

His eyes fluttered to a close—

"Rumpelstiltskin!"

His face went slack—

"I love you!" Belle touched her head to his as she bawled and whispered again, "I love you."

She pressed her lips ever-so-lightly against his. A shot of golden light rippled out from between them. Warmth flooded Belle's veins and poured onto Rumpelstiltskin's lips. When the light had passed, Belle pulled away and Rumpel gasped a breath. His color returned and his eyes snapped open. He was alive. He was alive and he was human. Belle laughed through her tears.

Rumpelstiltskin reached his hand up again and cupped the back of Belle's head. "You saved me," he said.

Belle smiled. "I owed you a favor," she said with a laugh.

Rumpel pulled her into a tight embrace and stroked her long hair. "I love you," he said. "I've always loved you." He pulled back and looked Belle directly in the eyes. "I'm never letting you go again."

Belle laughed again, overcome with joy. She leaned in and kissed him again. When they parted, a pair of hands was applauding them from behind. Belle and Rumpelstiltskin looked towards the doors of the library and saw a figure in black. He had red eyes and a thin, gaunt face, sharp teeth and bony fingers that clutched a jagged dagger. Written on it, dripping with Rumpelstiltskin's blood, was the name 'Jack.'

"Very touching," Jack said. His voice had become deep and rattling, a voice that squeezed the heart from the inside. The curse had been passed on to him, had turned him into a devilish monster. He looked at his hands. "So much power," he said. "So invigorating."

Belle looked at Rumpel and he stared boldly at Jack. "You got what you came for. Your business is done."

A cold, creepy smile slithered across the new Dark One's face. "You know that's not true." He reached out his hand as if grabbing a tree branch and squeezed the air.

Belle gasped and put her hands to her throat, choking. Jack threw his hand back and Belle went flying through the air, landing in front of him on her back. She cried and gulped, her throat tightening with the magic from Jack's fingers.

"Let her go!" Rumpelstiltskin sprang to his feet. He rushed at the Dark One, but Jack held up the dagger and sent him hurdling across the room and into a shelf of books.

Jack pulled Belle to her feet by her hair. He squeezed her close and yelled, "She's mine now, Rumpelstiltskin. You have no power over anyone anymore."

Though his body ached, Rumpel staggered to his feet. "Let her go, Jack! Let her go!"

Jack grinned, baring his sharp, black teeth. "Catch us if you can." He threw his hand down and a puff of black smoke enclosed him and Belle.

"No!"

The smoke collapsed in on itself and disappeared, the sound of Belle screaming echoing through the room. Rumpelstiltskin ran towards the empty space.

"Belle!" He looked around frantically. "Belle!"

She was still shouting, far-off and disappearing like the wind.

"I hear you," Rumpel said. He looked to the ceiling and cried, "I hear you! I'll find you!"

**END**

**To be continued in the sequel, "Heartlines"**


End file.
